


73. Ryan gets dessert

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [73]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	73. Ryan gets dessert

_**Ryan Kwanten makes dessert of Sam Worthington**_  
[backdated to May 5th, 2011; directly follows [this dinner meeting with Christina Ricci and Natalie Portman](http://www.journalfen.net/users/miss_christina/35511.html)]  
[ **warning:** foodplay]

Damp trousers are annoying. Ones which have dried stiff are even worse. All in all, Ryan's glad they've got a driver negotiating the streets of New York to get them back to their hotel, rather than the burden landing on him. He's far too busy plotting. "Still hungry?" he asks Sam, tapping his fingers on the styrofoam container of chocolate mousse they're bringing back with them from the Citadel restaurant.

"Yeah..." Sam says slowly, eyeing the package in Ryan's lap. Ryan already 'threatened' him and he knows his lover's got plans. "Why?"

Ryan shrugs. "I just want you to keep your strength up. Of course, that was a huge steak you put away." He grins. Sam eats with the same gusto he shows in other areas of his life.

"Are you insinuating something?" Sam teases, patting his non-existent gut.

"No." Ryan chuckles and slouches against the fine leather seat as their driver pulls into the Citadel club's parking garage. "But I do want you to be comfortable for when I have _my_ dessert."

Sam grins. "I think we're good then. I'll keep til morning." Eyes narrowing slightly as he reconsiders his words. "Not that you can keep me tied up til morning. I just mean food-wise."

"You're putting a limit on how long I can keep you tied up? Really?" Now that gets Ryan's mind hurtling off in an entirely new direction.

"I'm confused," Sam says with a laugh as he gets out of the car and holds the door open for Ryan. "Didn't you say you were planning on tying me up?"

"Yeah... but now you're saying I have to let you go again," Ryan answers, a devilish twinkle in his eye.

Sam just shakes his head. "I'm totally fucked, aren't I?"

"Yes, Sir." Ryan's grin widens. He switches the mousse to his other hand and pulls open the door to the Citadel lobby, watching his boyfriend's ass as Sam walks past. "Any last requests?"

Sam grins over his shoulder. "Permission to come?"

"I'll think about it." As they make their way up to their suite, Ryan links his fingers with Sam's. It's a habit he's gotten into, on Citadel properties. Maybe it's corny. But he misses the casual shows of affection so much when they're out in public.

"You're mean," Sam says, but he's still grinning, squeezing Ryan's fingers. "Hey." He nudges Ryan up against the nearest wall. "Before we do anything else. Are you sure you're good with this? Everything we talked about this evening?"

"Yeah." Ryan nods, slipping his arms around Sam's waist. "I like them. I think they've got a lot of the same reservations we have, and I think that's going to keep things on the level, you know? We're all determined to be careful and smart about this."

Sam nods. "Okay, but what about beyond that? How are you gonna feel about seeing me and Natalie together, holding hands, the papers writing about us? Even though it's all pretend, is it gonna bother you?"

Ryan drops his head to rest against Sam's shoulder. "Maybe," he murmurs. _Probably_ , his gut tells him. "But it'd bother me more to see you unhappy. I can deal with a little pretend. I mean, it's like another job for you. Right? At least I won't have to watch you pretend-fuck her."

"Right, and no, you won't," Sam assures him, hugging Ryan close. "But I want you to be honest with me, and if you see an article that upsets you, or we do something that pushes things too far, or whatever, I want you to tell me."

"I can do that. I think if you push things too far, though, you'll have Christina to deal with even before me." Ryan grins a little. "That is one fierce lady."

"Yeah, she is, but seriously, _you're_ my real concern. I meant every word I said to her about respecting their relationship and protecting it but you're the one I'm going to be thinking about," Sam insists, a sudden wave of sadness washing over him. "The one I wish I could be seen with, holding hands, kissing..."

Ryan feels it just as keenly, a sharp sword thrust of resentment with no real target. "Just kiss me when you can," he whispers, tangling his fingers in Sam's hair. "It'll be enough." It will have to be.

"Okay," Sam nods, kissing Ryan surprisingly softly. "I'll make it up to you some day," he promises.

Watching Sam's eyes, Ryan shakes his head slightly. "Baby, you make it up to me every day," he tells him, the corners of his mouth curving in a faint smile. "I couldn't be happier than I am. I'd burst.”

It means everything to Sam to hear those words but it doesn't stop him from teasing, "Even if you get to tie me down and have your way with me and chocolate?"

"I am pretty bloody excited about that," Ryan confesses. Like it's a big secret. "And hungry." He places his palm on Sam's chest and pushes him gently backwards, starting down the hall again. "It is tempting though to turn the tables and keep you chained up for a while. I want to know if I can actually use myself up on you."

"Define a while," Sam says, already hard as hell, his groin tight with arousal. "And define use up."

"Until I'm too tired to get hard anymore. Regardless of how many times _you've_ already come," Ryan explains, a wicked light in his eye. Yeah, they've certainly lived it the other way 'round.

Fuck. Sam gives that a moment's thought then nods. "Okay."

"Okay?" Ryan echoes, confused. He thought they'd been speaking in purely hypothetical fantasy terms. But suddenly his fantasy seems to actually be on the table as a viable possibility. It calls for some serious mental adjustment.

"Yeah, if you were serious," Sam says, watching Ryan. "Why not?"

Ryan stops in his tracks, trying to figure that out. "We've never switched that hard before," he says after a moment, his fingers playing restlessly with the hem of Sam's shirt. "You'd need a safeword."

Sam shrugs a little. "I could just use yellow and red," he says. "I'm not sure I'd remember anything else."

"...Okay." Ryan nods, still a little dazed. And nervous -- that lingering fear cropping up that he might bore Sam in the pursuit of his own selfish pleasure. "Come on, then."

"You sure you're okay with this?" Sam asks, noting that Ryan doesn't seem anywhere near as into this as he thought he would be. "We don't have to do it tonight. Or ever." Fuck. Maybe he _is_ getting turned off by a sir who's so fucking willing to switch. Not that Sam’s ever switched with anyone else like this. And maybe that's the problem.

"No, I want to. I want to try," Ryan insists, walking backwards and pulling Sam down the hall. "And if it doesn't work out the way we want, we can chalk it up as a bad experiment, right? It's not like it's going to ruin anything.”

"No, of course not," Sam says, still concerned. "I just don't want to force you into doing anything you don't want to. Not every fantasy has to be played out."

"You're not forcing me." Ryan laughs a little. "It was my idea. And if it gets to be too much, we'll stop." He lets go of Sam's hand to take a firmer grip on the container of mousse, which probably isn't quite so chilled by now.

"Okay." Sam nods, taking Ryan at his word. He leans in, quickly kissing the side of his lover's jaw even though they're on the move. "I trust you," he says with a smile as they stop in front of their room and he slides the keycard through the reader. "Besides, it's a fucking hot idea."

 _I trust you._ They're magic words. Ryan smiles and pushes the door open. "Get naked," he says, moving to the bed to set up the cuffs. "On your back."

"Yes, sir," Sam grins, getting rid of his boots and then slowly unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes on Ryan as his lover makes his preparations. He drops the shirt over the back of a nearby chair and his jeans follow and then he's throwing himself onto the bed, arms stretched starfish-like to all four corners, his cock already half-hard against his belly.

Damn, that's a beautiful sight, and it nearly washes every thought and plot from Ryan's mind. He shakes himself a little, then leans down to buckle the cuffs around Sam's wrists. He draws them tight, but gives Sam more slack in his ankle bonds, wanting his lover to be able to bend his legs when he needs to.

Sam's cock continues to stiffen with the tightening of leather around his wrists and ankles, the scent filling his nostrils. He gives the cuffs a slight tug, groaning softly and bites at his lips, hands already itching to touch his boy. "You should teach me some more of that meditation stuff some time," he says with a grin. "This is probably one of those times I could really use it."

"Are you actually asking me to breathe with you?" Ryan snickers, his eyes bright. He loosens his necktie before dragging it off over his head, then begins - slowly - to unbutton his dress shirt. Very slowly.

Sam's cheeks heat a little and he ducks his head then grins at Ryan. "Maybe." Unable to keep his eyes off his lover for long. Especially when he's making such a show of things.

Ryan lets the opened shirt slip from his shoulders, and breathes a sigh as the cool air of the room hits his new nipple piercings. He unbuckles his belt, sliding it from the loops, and then _finally_ unzips his stiffened trousers, letting them slide down his legs to the floor. Shoes kicked off and he climbs onto the bed, straddling Sam's thighs but careful not to touch.

Sam licks his lips at the sight. "Tease," he accuses, eyes sparkling, already having accepted he's in for a _long_ night.

"I haven't even begun to tease you," Ryan tells him with a smile. He opens the container of mousse and dips his finger in, then slowly sucks chocolate from his fingertip. More mousse, and this time he drops his finger to Sam's lips, drawing a line of chocolate down his lover's throat to his collarbone.

Christ. The look on Ryan's face when he's doing that? It goes straight to Sam's cock and he licks his lips again, moaning softly at the taste.

Ryan grins at the sound, and braces himself so he can drop down, licking a smooth line along Sam's throat. It was definitely worth it to skip dessert at the restaurant for this. He traces more mousse down Sam's chest, circling a nipple.

Sam's breath catches, his cock jerking lightly, smearing more precome across his skin. "Don't I get a taste?"

With a soft moan of agreement, Ryan pushes his mousse-covered fingers into Sam's mouth. His own mouth is busy, licking and sucking chocolate from Sam's nipple, scraping tender flesh with teeth.

"Mm." _Fuck._ Sam sucks fervently at Ryan's fingers, tongue working over them, getting every last bit of mousse from his skin.

God, that gets Ryan so fucking hot. Every touch of Sam's tongue shoots straight to his cock, sparking through him. Ordinarily this early in the game he'd be trying to tamp down the lust, hold back and wait to beg until he absolutely couldn't stand it anymore. But he's not begging tonight. He rubs his prick against Sam's thigh, pleasure swelling as he licks and bites at Sam's other nipple.

"Oh, god," Sam blurts out around Ryan's fingers, his stomach muscles clenching tight at the bite. Certain he could come from that alone if Ryan keeps going.

Ryan growls softly, rocking against Sam's hip. A few more days until Sam starts filming, and the first few weeks in full armor... He sucks hard, working Sam's nipple with tongue and lips. Then bites down hard, marking his lover.

Sam shifts, rubbing his cock against Ryan, almost whimpering with the bite, with the fucking gorgeous pain of it, before his whole body seizes and he comes, just like that, fuck.

That whimper nearly _ends_ Ryan. And the hot splash against his skin just sends him over the edge. He bucks against Sam's hip and comes too, his mouth gradually gentling as he eases down.

Christ. "Maybe we should have pierced my nipples too," Sam murmurs, amused, his cock still jerking with each touch of Ryan's mouth and teeth.

Ryan grins. "Nipples, cock, tongue..." All bad ideas, considering Sam's career. But fun to think about. Ryan draws a line of mousse down Sam's abs, mapping the fine treasure trail of hair. But he doesn't stop there: he traces streaks of chocolate over Sam's softening cock. Then shifts down the bed to take his lover into his mouth.

"Oh jesus christ you're gonna kill me," Sam gasps, but it's not really a complaint. Not even fucking close.

The muffled laugh that fetches could only be described as evil; apparently Sam isn't the only one in this relationship with sadistic tendencies. Ryan sucks every trace of chocolate from Sam's prick, then sucks some more, just because. He finally lets him go only to dip down and lick at Sam's balls, mouthing the heavy sac.

Sam tugs at his wrists, itching to get his hands on Ryan but it's useless. He moans, spreading his legs wider, losing himself in the overwhelming pleasure of Ryan's mouth. "So good," he murmurs.

Damn, Sam is so fucking sexy like this. Giving himself up to Ryan, letting himself be vulnerable. Ryan kneels up and meets his lover's eyes for a moment, then scoops up some more mousse on his fingers. He licks out at his fingertip, the sweetness bursting on his tongue before he presses a slick finger to Sam's hole.

"Unh." Sam tenses for a moment but only in anticipation, his hole aching to be filled by his lover. It's not like Ryan needs permission but he nods anyway. Encouraging. Urging him on.

Ryan grins and slides back down the bed, his forgotten cock starting to swell again. He pushes Sam's thighs apart a little wider, working his finger deeper before pulling it away. And licking into his lover's body.

A string of soft curses spills from Sam's lips, Ryan's tongue slipping into him, opening his hole. His stomach flip-flops with arousal, his cock straining to fill again, and he moans, trying to spread his legs ever wider, get Ryan's tongue even deeper.

Fucking delicious. Sam and chocolate. Ryan pushes his tongue as deep as it will go, thrusting inside his lover's body. He thrills at every fine quiver of muscles in Sam's thighs and teases around the edge of his hole. Then slides his finger in alongside his tongue, angling for that sweet spot.

Sam's cock jumps against his hip, his body arching up from the bed, every nerve in his body seemingly wired to that bundle right there. "Oh, fuck," he murmurs again, feeling like a broken record, his cock jerking and filling and leaking against his skin.

"Soon," Ryan promises, his lips curving. He wants to stretch Sam more first. Two spread fingers, licking around them, and fuck if Ryan hadn't come already he'd be desperate by now. As it is his cock is hard and heavy against the edge of the bed. Three fingers. "When's the last time I fucked you?" he asks softly, kneeling up between his lover's thighs.

"Back in Australia," Sam whispers, pressing down on Ryan's fingers, the stretch making his cock jump again. "When you gave me the massage with the oil."

The words flood Ryan with sensual memories, and he dips down to lick along the faint healing lines over Sam's heart. "Too long," he says, pulling his fingers away and lining up his cock with Sam's hole, starting to press the head inside.

Sam groans, the thick crown breaching his body, stretching him even more, and he nods. "Yeah. Way too long." Especially when it feels like this, like he's being turned inside out with the pleasure.

Ryan hitches Sam's ass up onto his thighs, testing the slack allowed by the cuffs. And he pushes his cock deeper, working the tight angle to slide into Sam's body with a groan of ecstasy.

"Oh, fuck," Sam curses again, his cock dancing across his belly, spitting a few drops of precome as it goes. "Yeah, fuck, that's it. _Fuck me._ "

"I was... gonna take it easy on you," Ryan gasps, his gut clutching with pleasure. He eases out, watching the slow drag of his cock as it leaves Sam's body. The sight nearly destroys every bit of self-control he has.

"Why? I'm not gonna break," Sam says, shifting, trying to get Ryan back inside him.

"No. You're not, are you?" Ryan asks softly, and his mouth curls in a wicked grin. He digs his fingernails into Sam's hips and slams back into him, the force making the bed creak.

Sam shouts, the thrust making his hole burn, his cock throb. Christ. "Yeah, oh, god," he moans, keeping his legs spread, his body open for Ryan. Wanting more.

The rhythm Ryan slides into is fast and brutal, thrusting deep inside Sam's hole every time. He drops his head back, muscles straining, sweat beading on his body as he pounds into his lover.

"Fuck," Sam chokes out, groaning raggedly, his head going back, every vein in his neck standing out as he holds on, holds on as long as he can before coming so fucking hard his vision goes black with it.

Ryan shouts, the clutch of Sam's body suddenly too fucking tight. He shudders, gasping for control. And as his lover's muscles ease up, Ryan starts to move again, this time sliding slowly in and out, drawing out the pleasure for himself until he's sure he'll go mad.

It's too much, but it feels so fucking good and Sam can't do a fucking thing but lie back and take it, aftershocks still rippling through him with every thrust.

"That's it," Ryan murmurs, shifting to cover Sam. "Mine," he whispers, and scrapes his teeth along Sam's corded throat. Straining for absolute possession. "Mine."

"Yours," Sam moans, nodding, eyes closed, tears rolling towards his temples, beyond overwhelmed, beyond anything but the purest pleasure of having given everything up to his lover.

The unexpected tears do it: they fucking shatter Ryan. He licks salt from Sam's skin and comes, pumping hot into his lover. Giving all of himself. Every last drop, and he slides out, tangling his fingers in Sam's hair and kissing deep into his mouth.

Kissing back, Sam keeps his eyes closed, the tears streaming down his cheeks. _Fuck._ If his hands were free, he could wipe them away, but they're not and he can't and he doesn't even have the words for why they're there.

"Shh, love," Ryan murmurs, though Sam hasn't said anything. He kisses the tear tracks, then kneels up to undo the cuffs, wrists then ankles.

"I thought you were going to keep me tied up," Sam murmurs, wiping his face with the back of his hand, hoping he hasn't totally fucked up Ryan's plans.

"Yeah, well. It's hard for you to hold me that way," Ryan says softly, taking his lover into his arms.

Sam wraps his arms around Ryan, although if asked, he'd deny he was clinging. Buries his face in Ryan's neck, his eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the tears to recede completely.

It's a moment of perfect peace, and Ryan breathes it in. Smooths his hand over his lover's back in a soothing caress. It's a completely mutual possession, fulfilling him to his fingertips, and time stops while he simply holds his lover.

"Sorry," Sam mumbles finally, drawing back a little.

"Don't," Ryan whispers. He tightens his hold on Sam so he can't pull away, but doesn't try to meet his lover's eyes. Not yet.

Sam bites at his lip, staring at Ryan's chest, at one of the rings going through his nipple, his emotions all a jumble.

 _Fuck_. Ryan feels the tension surging through Sam's muscles, and with a sigh he lets him go. He's not sure how he did it. But he feels like he's lost something precious.

Sam's gaze flickers to Ryan's face and he presses closer again. "What?"

"You." Ryan reaches out and traces a fingertip over Sam's cheekbone, a whisper of a touch. "You're thinking too fucking hard."

Sam laughs. "I think that's the first time I've ever been accused of that," he says softly, but he knows Ryan's right. "I just... you get all of me," he whispers. "I trust you so fucking much you get everything, all of me, and sometimes it scares the fuck out of me."

After a moment, Ryan drops his eyes and nods. "Yeah. I understand that." He's terrified himself, when he stops to think about it. But just now wasn't one of those moments. "You do... whatever you need to," he murmurs. "I'll be here."

"What do you mean?" Sam asks, pressing closer still. "Where do you think I'm going?"

"I just meant, if this is too much for you," Ryan explains softly. And now he's the one avoiding eye contact. "You don't have to worry. I'm not going to pressure you. I mean, I always seem to, but I don't mean to..." he trails off with a shake of his head.

"You're not pressuring me at all," Sam says, feeling like an ass and regretting that anything he's said has made Ryan feel like he's done something wrong. "I love you. I want to be with you. That's what I was trying to say. You're the only one who gets this from me. Who's ever gotten this from me. And I can't help it. Sometimes it leaves me feeling awkward, vulnerable, like a fucking wuss for crying, but that doesn't mean I'm going anywhere, or that you've done anything wrong."

"Okay." Ryan threads his fingers through Sam's hair and pulls him in for a kiss. He feels oddly guilty that Sam has said so much, and he knows that is so not the point. "But just so you know," he whispers, "I don't think you're a fucking wuss."

Sam grins. "You're biased," he murmurs.

"Actually I'm pretty sure no one in the world thinks that," Ryan says with a soft laugh. He strokes Sam's hair. "Come shower with me?"

Sam nods. "Yeah." Sticky with come, sweat and chocolate mousse, a shower sounds like just the ticket. He smiles at Ryan, his expression softening as his mind snags on part of their conversation. "Why do you always think you're pressuring me?"

Ryan flushes, uncomfortable. And surprised that Sam still wants to talk. "I don't know. I guess I just worry," he murmurs. "I feel sometimes like I've pressured you from the beginning, you know? Telling you right away that I'm in love with you. Following you halfway around the world. Brainwashing you into moving in with me." He hasn't give Sam a moment's time to breathe alone in months.

"Brainwashing me?" Sam pulls back to get an even better look at Ryan. "Is that really what you think?"

"No, I'm joking about that part," Ryan mumbles. "But you know what I mean. Don't you?"

"No, I don't," Sam says, concerned, because the way Ryan's acting, it's suddenly obvious this is something he's been worrying about a lot. "You followed me because I wanted you to, and it was good you told me you were in love with me. You know how blunt I am. Why wouldn't I want that from you? And as far as us moving into together... I'm the one who asked, who bought the fucking house..."

"That's my point. You've completely changed your life for me. I mean, your entire style of living," Ryan says, sitting up and dragging a hand through his hair. "You've settled down, you're lying to your mates, you're spending hours romancing a gorgeous woman whom you're _not_ going to have sex with... I mean, I'm the man who's changed Sam Worthington, this force of nature. I'm scared as hell you're going to wake up one day and hate me for that." There it is, finally. Ryan's darkest fear, out in the open.

Sam sits up too and reaches for Ryan's hand. "My life's better because of you, not worse," he says, linking their fingers. "And there's nothing I've changed that I'm going to regret." He pauses, smiling. "You don't seem to get it. You're the best fucking thing that's ever happened to me. I mean it. Hands down, absolute best."

There's no way anyone could hear those words and not smile, although Ryan blushes too. "Other people are good in bed," he points out leadingly, looking around the room.

"Yeah, that's true," Sam says thoughtfully, giving Ryan his very best poker face.

A frown flickers across Ryan's face. "And, um." He shrugs. "I bet you could get a better massage from someone else."

"Well, yeah, from a professional," Sam says, the poker face starting to crack.

"That's true, there are professionals," Ryan mutters. Professionals at everything he does for Sam, come to that. "And I bet I could find someone to wake you up at all hours with their terrible singing, too." Although he knows he's really not that bad; that's not the point. "There must be something else about me."

Sam exhales softly, propping his chin on his free hand. "Um..."

Ryan stares. " _Um?_ " he echoes. And pounces his lover, tackling him back down to the bed. "That's the best you can do?" he demands, snickering.

Sam laughs, shifting under Ryan. "Uh uh," he grins. " _This_ is the best I can do," he says softly, cupping Ryan's face in his hands. "You are the hottest sex I've ever had in my life, bar none, and you know I know what I'm talking about."

Ryan nods. "Better," he agrees judiciously. "And also, I love you more than anyone else."

"I was getting to that," Sam grins, before adding softly, his eyes locked on Ryan's, "but I was going to say you get me. Like no one else. Not my family, not my mates... you see me for who I am and you don't have any interest in changing me and yeah, I know you said you have, but that's the outside shit, the way I live, not me."

"Yeah..." Ryan chews on his bottom lip for a moment. "That's because you're perfect for me. Exactly as you are. Every day you surprise me by knowing me better."

"I love you so much," Sam whispers.

Simple words, really. The simplest of all. They strike straight to Ryan's heart, melting him. "Love you," he whispers, kissing Sam.

Kissing back, Sam groans into Ryan's mouth. "Didn't you say something about a shower?" he asks, nodding at the mess between them before they go any further.

Ryan grins. "Shower," he agrees, rolling off his lover and out of bed. "And clean sheets. Coming up."  



End file.
